


Adventures of Clinton Francis Barton

by akitkatbar



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: American Sign Language, Bad Puns, Batman References, Bread Crumbs, Broken Hearing Aids, Bruce Banner Hulks Out, Clint Barton & Hulk Friendship, Clint Barton & Matt Murdock Friendship, Clint Barton-centric, Clint doesn't like "normal", Dreams and Nightmares, Gen, Humor, Kinda AU, Loki is a dick, Loki lives with the avengers, Matt Murdock & Foggy Nelson Friendship, No Bread Crumbs were harmed in the first chapter, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Peter Parker makes an appearance, Phil Coulson Has the Patience of a Saint, This Is STUPID, do i need to tag both bruce and hulk?, everyone's here, i dont really know much, just the comic book, stupid jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-07-04 16:53:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15845433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akitkatbar/pseuds/akitkatbar
Summary: When was there ever a normal day in the Avengers Tower?(Original on FF.net)





	1. Bread Crumbs Release the Hulk

It was supposed to be another normal day in the Avengers Tower. But since a bunch of super-powered adults, and two Asgardians, lived together on the same floor, it was always _not_ a normal day.

Clint usually liked his little routine. Grab his bread chunks that Steve usually picked up for him at the local supermarket, grab his phone and charger and headphones, and nicely perch himself in a self-made blanket nest in the corner of Tony’s lab. He’s usually damage control, strangely enough, watching out for explosions from weird chemicals Tony plays around with or if he gets Banner a bit too excited until he sees green. 

Hulking out in the lab was never fun, Clint and Tony learned very quickly very early.

As he went through his day’s schedule in his head again and again, small words leaking in mumbles from his lips, he made his way to the large kitchen on the Avenger’s floor. The kitchen itself screamed “I’ve got too much money!!” and even though Clint liked to live with just the bare minimum, he liked the luxury of having a fully-operational stove and oven without having to worry about gas leaks or small fires.

He entered the seemingly empty room as he hummed some melody of a random song and only paused when he heard something fall onto the granite counter. He froze his body mid-step, and moved quickly under any taller person’s field of vision, hiding under the bar counter near the large dinning table. The mystery noise didn’t happen again, although Clint was still wary of someone else in the room he hadn’t spotted before so he peered over the same granite counter, making sure not to hit one of the metal stools as he moved.

Across the kitchen and near the pantries, stood a figure. The top cabinet pantry doors were ajar, and fear flashed across Clint’s mind. Tony’s most recent trip to Japan allowed him to bring back gifts for all the Avengers, and Tony had thought it would be _hilarious_ to give this certain thing to him as a gift.

So when Clint had stored the gift in _that cabinet_ , he only had to wonder _who the fuck_ would want it?

Trying his best not to be heard as he inched around the stools and counter and to the island of the kitchen, he only whispered out when he saw a sliver of metal catch his gaze. “Dude, don’t you fucking dare.”

Clint’s fists balled when Bucky turned around, his precious gift in the grip of his metal arm. “Don’t do what?” He asked back, his voice sounding innocent but his eyes gleamed with mischief.

“You know those are mine, Barnes. Stark bought them for me. You cried laughing when I unwrapped them; they’re special.”

The afternoon light shone through the large windows, the light catching the box’s front. _Panko Bread Crumbs_ , the font choppy and large, the kanji underneath in the same font. Bucky seemed to chuckle at the memory when Stark came back bearing gifts for everyone, his own gift was bara men magnets to put on his arm. Just because he uses them somewhat regularly, it doesn’t mean that he knows what the term means, or why the men decorating the magnets are crossing Thor-sized muscle category.

“I need them more now, little pigeon,” Bucky said, the nickname made Clint see red.

“I am not a pigeon!” He launched himself at the ex-soldier with all of his strength, not caring about the highly expensive cooking equipment around him. All he wanted was his bread crumbs. That’s all that mattered. Expensive shit be damned. Consequences can come later.

Bucky ended up bolting out of the kitchen area and near the elevators, running straight for the grand gold-colored doors. Unbeknownst to either of them, Banner was on the other side of the doors, wanting to grab a snack in the kitchen before continuing to work in the lab.

As the elevator doors opened, Bucky quickly changed direction before crashing directly into Banner, and ended up going down the hall to his left. As Clint started nearing the elevators, hot on Bucky’s trail, he heard the elevator click, Jarvis announcing the floor, and Banner walking out while rubbing his face with lazy movements. Clint heard what he had mumbled out, something about Thor, loud snoring, and lab work.

The following crash and loud roar wasn’t a surprise to anyone in the near vicinity. 

Clint tried his best to change directions as easily as Bucky had done, but it was too late. Banner released the Hulk when Clint crashed into him as he had just stepped out from the elevator, and a large green hand gripped his torso, squishing his lungs tightly.

“Hey, Big Guy,” Clint wheezed as he tried to scratch the Hulk’s hand to release him, “can ya, _cough_ , can ya loosen a bit here? I can’t, uh, breathe.” 

Hulk looked down at Clint, his eyes twinkled with amusement. From an outsider’s perspective, it looked like the Hulk was playing with dolls, and Clint was the doll. “No. Hawk stays here, with Hulk.”

Clint feels something pop inside him and he groans. “I promise I won’t go… I need to find, ah, find that bastard.”

“Bastard is a mean word. Where did Buck go?” He moved Clint to meet at eye level.

Clint felt nauseous, something _definitely_ broke inside somewhere. “Well,” he choked back another pained groan, “He had to have gone somewhere.”

“Hawk help Hulk find Buck,” the green giant concluded.

“Fuck.” _Just another “normal” day at Avengers Tower_ , Clint thought bitterly to himself.


	2. The Hawk Likes Bats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint searches for his limited edition Batman comic book.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updating, updating, updating...
> 
> (holy shiitake, the venom drabble got like almost 100 kudos in one day... it's the love they deserve)
> 
> enjoy!

The term “personal space” seemed nonexistent while living in the tower. Clint thought everyone had been taught by their parents that personal bubbles—like a _bedroom_ , for example—would be off limits, and completely intruding on the person’s own personal things. Nobody needed to know what the Banner-Hulk duo had in their huge ass room, much less what comics Clint seemed to collect.

“Even Natasha! I don’t go through her shit, she doesn’t go through mine…,” Clint grumbled under his breath as he turned his already messy room upside down in a panic. There was some commotion outside of his room, and after he checked under his bed (“The Void,” he called it) he moved to grab his hearing aids and closed the door behind him.

He ran to the living area without thinking, spotting Rogers near the windows. “Hey, Cap’n Crunch!”

Steve turned around, a small frown decorating his otherwise content face from his nickname. “Clint, I told you to stop using the list. The names that Tony put on there are not appropriate!” 

Clint chuckled at the small blush Steve ended his sentence with.

“Don’t worry dude, I’m virgin friendly.” The shorter man gave him a wink and a thumbs up, Steve responding only with flustered sputtering and a deep blush that disappeared under his shirt. “Anyways… Have you seen a Batman comic somewhere ‘round here? I coulda sworn I had it in my room.”

Steve coughed trying to get his heart rate to a normal speed. “Are you sure? You know, that room isn’t, uh, presentable in the least. You should clean it, I could get Bucky to help.”

_One fiasco with that bastard was enough_ , was what Clint thought. But, he knew Steve really liked him, and Clint values Steve’s friendship a bit too much, so instead he said, “I’m good. Really. But, if you find the comic lemme know! It’s a limited edition and there were like a hundred-fifty-ish that were actually released. Its valuable to me.”

The taller blonde nodded, “I’ll keep an eye out for it! But please clean your room!”

Clint gave him a flimsy salute with a loud snort, “Not happening, Cap!”

* * *

The whole day, it took _one_ _whole day_ to ask around to try and see who had it last. He rode the elevator so many times, he was sure Jarvis gave up in asking where he wanted to go. He also _asked_ the fucking AI to go back to security feeds to see, but of course Clint would’ve had to ask Tony for permission.

He asked Bucky and Nat, the former chuckled and gave him a shiny middle finger as he complained to Natasha. Banner locked him out of his room as he saw his face twisting with frustration down the hallway, yelling out a “I don’t have it! It’s Meditation Day! No stress!” 

Thor seemed to ask _about_ Batman. “Why is he called ‘Man of Bats’? Is his family part-bat? Can he shift _into_ a bat?”

Clint facepalmed himself so hard, he worried for a second if he had a red mark. “Dude, no. Please, don’t make me think of these things,” he waved his hands as if to whoosh away the invading thoughts and questions. “Do you have any clue who might’ve taken the comics?”

Thor grew quiet, the minute seeming a lot longer than sixty seconds. “Oh!” He hit his fist against his open palm, hopefully remembering who took the book. “I do believe I saw my brother with the graphics! I think he was curious about the origins of the Man of Bats, as I was.”

Clint grinned, his mind already mapping out the different places where Loki liked to hang out. “Thanks, Thor. I’ll buy your favorite pop-tarts next time!”

Thor responded with a hearty laugh and Clint turned around to jog towards the communal living room. Clint arrived a few minutes later, already wondering why the room was so dark. It was mid-afternoon, so it wasn’t necessarily dark outside either, but he noticed the blinds had been dropped down to darken the space even more so.

Clint was losing his patience fast, not taking extra precautions when passing the threshold into the suspicious unlit area. “It’s gotta be that goat god,” Clint mumbled, annoyed.

“I am _not_ a goat, little Hawk!” An angry, familiar, voice echoed around him. 

Clint smiled, knowing Loki took his bait. “Yeah, yeah. That’s what a _goat god_ would say. Shoulda changed yer gold horns when ya got the chance, dude.”

A burst of green smoke and sparkles— _sparkles? Really, Loki?_ —appeared in front of him, and a pasty, raven-haired man stood before him, holding Clint’s Batman comic. Clint sucked in a surprised gasp, happy to have finally found his precious comics.

“Give it back, Reindeer Games,” Clint growled, moving his head up to match his—hopefully—intimidating glare with Loki’s own cold green gaze.

Loki smiles, the action seemingly uninterested but Clint knows better. “Oh this?” He holds up the comic with little care, the pages rustling around and Clint swore he saw a dog-eared page. “Thor kept bugging me about your precious ‘Man of Bats’. The big oaf can’t ask _you_ instead? Stupid Thor.”

“I’ll take it back now, if you’ve already taught him everything you understood from the comics. And never go into my room again.”

“I should’ve used a bit of magic to clean that garbage pit,” Loki draws on, holding the comic a bit higher when Clint resorts to trying to grab it out of his hand.

“Loki! This isn’t fair!” Clint yelled, starting to lose the small sliver of patience he had left.

“No?” Loki questioned, dropping his hand a bit. “Sorry, then, Hawk. I believe life isn’t fair, as you Midgardians say. I think Heimdall would enjoy reading about this Man of Bats,” a glowing gold circle appeared near Loki’s hand, and Clint watched in slow-motion as his pale hand drop his comic down into the other side of the portal.

* * *

Clint didn’t look at Thor for the whole week.


	3. Protocol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just some basic, early morning protocol. The day after a rough mission, probably.

“State your name.”

“Clint Barton.” A hearty chuckle echoed in the small room.

The mouthless voice repeats. “State your _full_ name.” 

Clint sigh, rolling his eyes. “My name is Clinton Francis Barton. Happy?”

“Affirmative. State your position at S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“Uh, standing?” He chuckles, knowing he’s annoying the man behind the glass.

“State your position.” The voice is dry and tired.

“Hawkeye’s the name, archer’s the game.” The darkness in the room was less intimidating and more light and airy. “C’mon Coulson! You know this shit already!”

A click of a button, then faint static. “Its just protocol, Barton. Don’t get your arrows in a twist.”

“Congrats, Coulson. You actually said something sarcastic,” Clint leaned back on the chair in the empty room, laughing out loud this time. “Hurry up, buddy. Hulk’s gonna hog all the sandwiches!”

The static died and the automated voice came back.

“State your team.”

“The Avengers, dammit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a short one, but there wasn't much to edit 'cept the pov... my writing back then was a disaster.


	4. I’m the Eyes, You’re the Ears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another elitist party, and Clint forgot to put new batteries in his hearing aids. He wished he brought them... Or at least paid attention when Natasha taught him how to read lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one more chapter to revise then i'll be done transferring it over! ahhhhh, thank the gods. title for this chapter is from a fan art i saw years ago with matt and clint. i don't remember who it's from or where i saw it. sorrrrrrrrrry
> 
> hope you enjoy this one! 
> 
> ps: i don't know how hearing aids work. i took asl one semester in college and forgot everything. i tried my best. sorry, but honestly i just really like clint and matt meeting.

It was like watching a silent movie, except in real life and everything’s in color. He watched as the people around him moved their mouths, spit spraying and teeth shining in the party lights, people’s hands dancing to the beat of their mouths movements.

Clint heard none of it. His hearing aid was left with no battery and back at the tower. He should’ve went with Nat before the party to the corner pharmacy, instead he’s stuck in his own silence.

Barton eased his way through the thick hubs of crowds, trying to find Nat or Steve or Tony or even _Bucky_ to get them to tell him what’s going on in sign language. Everyone around him were elite around New York City, either partnering with Stark Industries or just monumental enough by the media to grab a spot here.

He noticed some small-time reporters from the Daily Bugle, a teen photographer with a hunky old camera around his neck—he’s got _something_ about him that Clint can’t put his finger on yet— and a bunch of smaller neighborhood heroes and lawmakers. 

The blonde made his way around two cops in uniform “laughing”— _they looked like they were laughing_ , Clint wondered—before bumping into someone as he continued to look behind him. He staggered back a bit, getting back on stable footing, before looking up to apologize to the man. 

The man he bumped into was tall and lanky, yet somewhat muscular. He had a scruffy face and… Sunglasses? It’s dark outside and everyone’s ins—

“Oh, you’re blind. Fuck,” Clint starts, albeit a bit loud. “Shit, sorry. I wasn’t paying attention!” Clint’s voice raises as he struggles to hear himself. 

The man appears to answer, as Clint watches his mouth move, but he doesn’t actually _know_ what he’s saying. A voice in the back of his mind chides him for not listening to Natasha’s crash course on how to read lips.

A shorter man next to the taller man smiled before grabbing Clint’s attention with a wave of his hand. Clint yells out a greeting before mentally smacking himself. He only stops his mental beating up when the other man signs a “hello”.

Clint thinks he mumbled out an “oh shit” before answering Blind Man’s Friend with his own greeting and introduction. Then he realized he should probably let them know he doesn’t have his hearing aids.

Foggy, or Blind Man’s Friend, lets him know it’s cool. And that he’s happy to have met Clint. And that if his friend could see, he’d probably be gushing about Hawkeye standing in front of them.

Foggy stops to whisper something to Tall Blind Man, to which the man nodded. Foggy translated his message quickly, letting Clint know who the duo is. 

Clint couldn’t hold back on a probably too dramatic gasp. “ _You guys are the one’s that brought down the Kingpin?!_ Holy shit!” Clint’s eyes sweep over Murdock’s figure, now knowing who they are. “You guys were great! And— didn’t you guys have the help of Daredevil?”

Murdock smiled and nudged at Foggy, and Foggy understood. He signed out a quick, “Daredevil’s here. Can’t always see him in the dark lights, though.” Foggy winked, nudging his elbow into Murdock’s rib cage.

Clint swallowed a scream of excitement.


	5. A Normal Day in the Normal Life of Clint Barton

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint has a nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and we reach the end of my re-editing & posting! all of these chapters were originally on ff.net, any future chapters are because i was extremely bored w life. plus clint barton is gr8.
> 
> enjoy!

A steady, yet loud, alarm screeched around his room. It sounded distant, yet near him, so he reached for his phone on the nightstand. His body hit the hard floor with an echoing _thump_ , which was odd, since nothing echoed in his room from how much clutter he had collected since Stark moved him in. Then he wondered if his alarm actually ever did go off. When he grabbed his phone, he noticed it was ten in the morning and _none_ of his alarms went off.

_Weird._

Another thing that was weird: his room was spotless. Not even dust out of place. “What the fuck?!” Clint cried out into his room, hearing his voice bounce off the four walls in a loud echo. The only thing he recognized was his old Batman vs. Superman poster. His bow and arrows were nowhere to be seen, and later, to be found.

His nose crinkled and his stomach grumbled hungrily when he caught the smell of pancakes. 

_Wait… Pancakes?_

Clint picked himself off the floor as quickly as he could and raced out his door to the communal kitchen. The smell of pancakes was overwhelming as he entered the threshold of the high-tech kitchen, Clint noticing Thor was expertly flipping the batter on the pan with a spatula. His eyes caught sight of Tony setting the table nicely, everyone getting a clean plate with a cup of syrup and a knife with a fork.

Clint thought something was _off_. This had to be a prank of sorts.

_Tony’s missing his arc reactor. Thor’s Mjolnir isn’t hanging on the hat rack in the living room._

A “ruh roh” from the TV knocked Clint from his confusion, instead the archer turned to see Natasha and Banner sitting on the couch, watching Scooby Doo and the gang solving their newest mystery. Behind him, Steve, Sam, and Bucky all joined to help set the table and get milk and orange juice out from the large fridge.

Clint wanted to scream. _Everything_ was normal.

He didn’t like this new normal.

At the moment he wore his most disgusted, yet confused, face, Natasha noticed. “Yo, Barton. Didn’t you say that you thought Scooby was your spirit animal or something?” Banner chuckled behind them at something that happened in the episode.

“I’m… Uh, I’m good,” Clint coughed. “Have you seen my arrows, Nat?”

Bruce turned to give a confused glance at Clint, “No weapons here, Clint. ‘Cept if ya count Thor’s arms.” A booming chuckle echoed from the kitchen, Thor then announcing breakfast was ready.

The Avengers gathered around the table, filling all the chairs at once. The tall stack of pancakes made its rounds around the table, Steve reminding everyone to start with two pancakes before getting more. 

Clint sat squished between Steve and Thor, feeling more out of place than ever before. He had enough, slamming his open palm to the table, startling everyone from their peaceful breakfasts.

“Okay! That’s it! What in the _hell_ is going on here?! Thor’s missing his stupid stun gun hammer, Tony’s got a fuckin’ heart,” Tony glared at him, “Nat and Banner are all calm and relaxed, and Captain fuckin’ America hasn’t said a god-damned thing!”

After a beat of silence, Tony swallowed, giving Clint a pointed look, “We’ve always been ‘normal’… What’s crawled up your ass that makes you think you can make up crap about everyone? Just wake up Clint and stop playing your silly games!”

* * *

Clint gasped awake. He looked straight ahead and found his quiver and bow hanging on his wall, the mess around his room very real. He sighed with relief.

“It was only a dream…”


End file.
